Jessi's Great Idea
by midnightwriting
Summary: The more things change, the more they stay the same. JessiKristy slash. Please don't flame. Written for a LiveJournal challenge.


"Great job, guys," I said as I surveyed the sweaty group of kids standing around me. "We'll see you all tomorrow. It'll be the last day of the salsa unit, so get ready to put it all together!" They all filed out of the room noisily and I grinned at Jill, the girl who was teaching with me. If they thought this week was fun, wait until we tried hip-hop the next week!

I'm Jessi Ramsey. I just turned fifteen, and in a month and a half, I'll be starting my sophomore year at Stoneybrook High School in my tiny little town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut. If you want to know how small Stoneybrook really is, let me put it to you this way: I'm the only black kid in my entire grade. It's very different than where I lived until I was eleven, where about half the kids in my school were black. The reason I was talking to a group of kids about salsa dancing was that I was participating in an athletics summer program put on by the school district. Fifth through eighth graders had gotten to sign up for the sport of their choice, and a bunch of us high schoolers were teaching their classes or coaching their sports. Along with Jill, who was a year older than me, I was in charge of a dance class that did a different type of dance each week.

I bet you're wondering what qualifies me to teach a class like that. I'm a dancer. Actually, I'm mainly a ballet dancer—I take classes at a pretty prestigious dance school in Stamford—but in the last couple of years, I had started to get interested in different kinds of dance. My favorite thing about dancing is that you communicate with your body, and when I realized there were feelings that I didn't always get to express with ballet, I decided to give some other things a try. Since then, I'd taken classes in hip hop, salsa, African dance, modern dance, lyrical, and swing, and I'd loved them all. Ballet would always be my favorite, but it felt good to stomp around sometimes, or to fly through the air, or to hang onto a partner and see how quickly I could make my feet move.

"See you tomorrow, Jessi," Jill said as she picked up her gym bag and water bottle. "And we should find some time before Monday to finish choreographing the hip hop stuff."

I nodded and picked up my own bag. "Maybe tomorrow before class?"

But as we were walking out of the classroom we were using as a dance studio, we nearly bumped right into Coach Howard, one of the coaches who was in charge of the entire program.

"Oh good, I'm glad I caught you two," she said, slowing down a little. "Coach Sanders and I would like all the instructors to come to the gym right now for a little meeting. Can you make it?"

"Yeah," I answered, glancing at Jill curiously. I had no idea what this could be about. We hadn't had any other instructors meetings since the one on the first day of the program. There wasn't much that dance instructors, volleyball coaches, and basketball coaches needed to confer about.

"Good. See you down there in about ten minutes."

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When Jill and I got to the gym, we sat down on the bleachers next to some girls she knew who were trying to figure out what the meeting was about, but I couldn't pay attention. I kept scanning the room, although I wasn't really sure what I was looking for. And then, suddenly, something caught my eye. Coach Sanders was talking to a short brunette with a messy ponytail and a whistle around her neck who was wearing a t-shirt jersey, nylon shorts, and sneakers.

It was Kristy Thomas. And she hadn't changed a bit.

I met Kristy back when I was in sixth grade and she was in eighth. I had just moved to Stoneybrook, and she and some other eighth grade girls ran a business called the Baby-Sitters Club, where people could call one number and reach a bunch of sitters in one place. Right after I met my best friend, Mallory, the girls in the club invited us to join. When Kristy and the others graduated middle school, though, the club disbanded. By that point, Mallory had quit to go to boarding school in Massachusetts (where she still goes, so we only get to see each other in the summers), and I had actually quit, too, to give more time to my dancing. I was still friendly with some of them when I saw them at school or around town, but since they were two years older than me and I spent a lot of time in Stamford, that wasn't all that often. I had spoken to Kristy exactly twice since I started high school. Something about her made me nervous these days. Talking to her made my stomach feel kind of light and hollow. I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

Just then, Coach Howard entered the gym and she, Kristy, and Coach Sanders stood in front of all of us, which caused everyone to hush immediately.

"Thanks for making it on short notice, everyone," Coach Sanders began. "So far, this has been a really successful program, and we're already getting requests to do it again next year. We want to do something special to celebrate how well this is going. Kristy Thomas here has come up an idea that we're going to let her share with you all."

I couldn't help myself—I grinned. Kristy really _hadn't _changed. She was always known for coming up with her trademark Great Ideas. She _was_ the one who thought up the Baby-Sitters Club, after all. She was definitely the visionary type, although a lot of people didn't notice that because of her big mouth and bossy attitude. Those things didn't really bother me, though. She had the whole package—terrific ideas and the plans to make them happen. I somehow doubted that those things about her had changed much in the last four years, either.

"So here's the idea. The kids are all working really hard and learning a lot of new skills, and they should get to show them off. So at the end of the summer, we're going to put on an exhibition. It'll be an all-day event. Everyone will be assigned a time slot and location."

With that, Coach Howard started passing out a stack of papers. When the stack got to me, I saw that it was copies of the schedule for the exhibition, which was to be on August 20th. That meant we only had a month to come up with choreography and teach it. I immediately tuned Kristy out and started daydreaming about how we could fit as many different styles of dance into one routine as possible, and before I knew it, everyone was standing up and heading out. Jill said something about working on the new routine when we met the next day, and then she was gone, too. When I looked up, the gym was nearly empty and Kristy was walking toward me.

My stomach dropped.

"Hey, Jessi."

"Hey, Kristy," I answered nervously. I held up the paper with the schedule on it and added, "Looks like yet another one of your Great Ideas."

Kristy laughed. A big, genuine laugh that put a grin on her face. "Thanks," she said when she recovered. "I'm glad you think so. Think your kids will be into it?"

"Yeah, I do. It'll be a little different for us because they'll have to learn a whole dance. Your kids will just be playing a regular softball game."

"Soccer," she corrected. "I play soccer now. I mean, I still play softball, but soccer is my main sport."

"Oh." I felt really stupid. How could I not know that?

"You're right though. They'll just play a soccer game. But you're a good dancer, and you're good with kids. You won't have any trouble teaching them something to perform."

I blushed. Praise from Kristy meant a lot to me. "Thanks."

"So, what are you up to now?"

My mind went blank. I suddenly had no idea what I was planning on doing after I left that day. "Umm… I think I was going to work out a little bit. I love teaching these kids, but I haven't put enough energy toward ballet since this thing started. I feel like I'm losing some of my flexibility."

Kristy nodded. "I know how that goes. Coaching isn't the same as playing. I'm having the same problem, and when soccer season starts again, that's going to be an issue." She paused. "We should work out together. Since we're both working on leg stuff, I mean."

There are no words for how surprised I was to hear that come out of Kristy's mouth. I mean, this was the longest conversation we'd had in a couple years, and she wanted to work out together?

"What about Abby?" I asked. Abby was another former member of the Baby-Sitters Club who also played soccer. "Wouldn't you rather practice with her?"

Kristy shrugged. "She's gone for the whole summer."

"Oh. Sure. Um… Do you want to come over to my house? I mean, if you just want to do flexibility stuff, we can use my basement. That's where I normally do this kind of stuff."

I almost smacked myself in the head when I heard those words come out of my mouth. But it was too late. I had just invited Kristy over to my house. And now I was in for a whole afternoon of that weird stomach thing.

"Sure. Let me get my stuff and we can go."

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So that's how it started, but I don't think I could tell you how the rest of the day went if my life depended on it. All I know is that by the end of the day, I was laughing a lot—I had forgotten how funny Kristy can be—and that the next day after class, Kristy was waiting for me in the parking lot.

By the end of the following week, we had exercised together five times, every weekday except the days that I went to Stamford for class. It was getting so that the odd feeling in my stomach wasn't so noticeable anymore. I mean, it was just as light and weird, but I didn't feel so nervous.

The Saturday after that, Mallory came home. She and her family had been on their annual summer vacation in New Jersey, and we didn't have a lot of time left together before she went back to Massachusetts for school. We had arranged to meet at the little coffee shop and bookstore in town at three o'clock on the day she got home, and I spent all day counting down the minutes until she arrived. I was itching to tell her about this new thing with Kristy. She talked to the other BSC members even less than I did, since she spent all year at boarding school. She sometimes heard news that I didn't because her little brothers and sisters (she has seven of them) were friends with the siblings of a couple of the other girls, but I knew she'd be shocked that Kristy and I were actually hanging out. We hardly even hung out alone back when the club existed!

When I walked into the bookstore, there she was, sitting at one of the little tables and flipping through a newspaper. Her red hair had gotten really long, so that now it was more wavy than curly, and I had to admit that I almost couldn't believe she was the same girl I met in sixth grade. She had gotten a few inches taller and didn't have glasses or braces anymore, and she was wearing a stylish top and jean shorts. Still, she had that lopsided smile that let me know she was still the same old Mallory, and as she got up to give me a hug, she almost knocked over her chair. I guess Kristy wasn't the only one who hadn't changed all _that _much in four years.

She started talking immediately, complaining about her sister Vanessa, who was so nervous about starting high school in the fall that she had kept Mal up all night every night on their vacation with her worries. I let her talk, enjoying the stories about her family and about the cute boys at the beach. Finally, she took a breath and sheepishly asked me what was new with me.

"You're never going to believe me when I tell you," I warned her.

"What?" she asked excitedly. There's nothing Mallory loves as much as a good suspenseful buildup.

"I've been hanging out with Kristy Thomas."

Mal's jaw dropped, and I laughed. Her patented melodrama was exactly what I was looking for. "You're kidding."

"Weird, huh?"

"How did this happen?" she demanded.

I explained to her about Kristy's latest Great Idea and how she had just started talking to me out of nowhere. I told her how sometimes we exercised at my house and sometimes we worked out on the soccer field (although I kept the kicking to a minimum and stuck to the same basic stretches we did at my house—the best thing about summer is that I don't have to worry about injuring my feet in gym class!), and how Kristy had even offered to pick me up in the mornings on our way to the school, since she had to drive from across town.

"This is so bizarre," Mallory said slowly. "Not more than a word from her all year and now you guys are together all the time?"

"I know," I said with a nod.

She kept talking about how weird it was, but I was a little distracted. Mallory was my best friend, so why didn't I tell her how nervous Kristy made me? Why wasn't I telling her about the fluttery stomach thing, and how my palms got kind of sweaty, and how often I seemed to blush when Kristy made me laugh?

I didn't want to think about it, that's why. I had excellent powers of denial.

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"Hey, Jessi," Kristy called out as I ran to meet her at the parking lot the next Friday, "I can't come over today. I have to go home and babysit Emily." Emily Michelle is Kristy's six-year-old sister. "Do you want to come with? We can do some stretches in the backyard, and I could take you home after dinner."

I wanted to say no. I hadn't been to Kristy's house in a long time, and I thought it might be weird to see her whole family again, but once again—this seemed to happen a lot when Kristy was around—my mouth got ahead of my brain. "Sure."

When we got to her house after picking Emily up from daycare, Kristy set her up at the picnic table with some books and we sat down on the lawn to do our regular stretches. First we did a bunch of basic stuff, including my favorite, where we put one foot behind the knee of the other leg and rotate at the waist. It stretches out your lower back and hips, which feels really good considering that dancing is all about posture and my back can end up pretty sore. I looked over at Kristy and grinned. I was much more flexible than her, which made sense, but it felt good to be better than her at something. When it came to athletic stuff, Kristy was the most talented person I knew.

"Kristy, if you put your left hand a little further back you won't feel so unsteady and you'll be able to rotate more," I suggested. She grunted and followed my instructions.

I watched her for a minute, only half feeling the nice extension in my back. She was concentrating really hard on positioning her foot and her hand where I had been showing her for the last week. Her brow was furrowed and she was chewing on her lip, but I couldn't help noticing how pretty she looked as she focused. There was definitely something about people who threw themselves totally into everything they did that intrigued me. It was one of my favorite things about Mallory, and as I was getting to know Kristy better, I realized that it was a trait of hers I'd always admired as well. It was no wonder she always got things done once she set her mind to it.

We finished our normal stretching routine pretty quickly, and I was about to ask Kristy if there was any way to do a cardio workout while still watching Emily when she cut me off before I could say anything.

"Hey, do you want to try something new?"

"Um, sure," I answered, feeling the fluttering in my stomach getting stronger. "What do you have in mind?"

"I talked to my coach yesterday and he said I need to do more hamstring work. That's where I tend to get kind of tight after games," she explained. "Here, I'll show you what he said to do."

Kristy lay down on her back and lifted one leg up in the air. "Now you lean over and I put my calf on your shoulder." I followed her directions, bracing my legs in a lunge and holding onto her leg for balance. "Now just push my leg toward my shoulders lightly, and I'll push back against your shoulders."

Once again, I did what Kristy said, leaning forward until it seemed like she had pushed as far as she could. I had done this stretch with plenty of the other dancers at my dance school, but I still felt nervous. In fact, as soon as I had taken hold of Kristy's leg, my palms started sweating and my mouth got kind of dry. I didn't even get nervous before dancing in front of big audiences, so I had no idea what was going on with me. Somehow, having my face so close to Kristy's and my hands on her legs just seemed to make my brain stop working.

I tried to shake it off as we switched legs. We repeated the exercise for each leg three times, and by the last time, I was feeling calmer. Touching Kristy was no big deal, and there was really no reason for me to act like it was. To prove it, I decided to get over myself and just _talk _to her already.

"That was really good," I said as I plopped down on the grass. "You definitely stretched further the last time than the first."

I smiled at Kristy, and she smiled back, another one of those ten-thousand watt grins she had been giving me lately. But then her smile faded, and she got this really serious look in her eyes. "Jessi, I need to tell—"

"Kristy?" a little voice interrupted. "I want a snack." I looked up to see Emily Michelle standing over us.

"Oh, sure," Krisy replied, looking flustered. I'd never seen her flustered before. That, along with the serious look she had just been giving me, had made my stomach even worse. Kristy got up and followed Emily inside, and I followed a few steps behind them.

I was just about to tell Kristy that I needed to get home early after all and that I'd call someone to pick me up when the door from the garage flew open and Kristy's mom and stepdad came in with her little brother, David Michael, and her stepsiblings, Karen and Andrew. Suddenly, the house that had been so quiet all afternoon erupted with noise, and before I knew it, a place had been set at the dinner table for me. It got even noisier at dinner, when Kristy's grandmother came home with her two older brothers, Sam and Charlie, who were home from college for the summer. I'd forgotten how much fun their house can be. My house can get busy too—besides me and my parents, there's also my little sister and brother and my aunt—but it's nothing like the Brewer/Thomas household.

By the end of dinner, whatever had started to get weird before Emily interrupted us had faded, and Kristy was back to her old self. When she dropped me off that night, I even told her that next time, she should have dinner at my house. That was obviously the right thing to say, because she shot me another one of those grins and told me to tell my parents to cook for one more on Tuesday. When she drove away, I stood in the driveway staring after her car for a long time before I went inside.

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"What do you think of all this?" I asked Mallory as we browsed through the racks of clothes in our favorite store. We had taken the bus to Stamford to go shopping, even though neither one of us really had much money to spend. I had just finished telling her about dinner at Kristy's house, although once again, I left out the part about how nervous Kristy made me feel.

"I don't know. Maybe she was going to say something about how you're just a sophomore and once Abby gets back and school starts, you're not going to hang out anymore," Mal suggested.

"Mal! Kristy's not like that."

Mallory shrugged. "How would I know? I haven't talked to her in forever. It's a possibility."

I sighed. Mallory had seemed a bit miffed with me all week. I was starting to think she was a little annoyed that I was spending more time with Kristy than with her. But that wasn't even really true. Mallory and I had gone to the movies on Tuesday night after dinner, and on Thursday, we had sat on a bench in the park and talked for hours. I wasn't doing those kinds of things with Kristy.

"I just don't think Kristy would say something like that, even if it was true. She's changed a little since we were eleven. She seems like she thinks a little more before she speaks."

Mallory raised her eyebrows.

"I said a _little _more," I pointed out with a smile. "No one changes _that _much."

"I dunno, Jessi. I just think it's weird. I mean, what _does _a senior want with a sophomore anyway?"

I stopped what I was doing and looked at my best friend. "What does that have to do with anything? If eighth graders can hang out with sixth graders, can't seniors hang out with sophomores? Besides, I'm more flexible than her, so maybe she actually wants my _help_, even if I _am _younger. And I just don't think think Kristy is the user type."

"I guess," Mallory said, shrugging again. "I hope you're right."

I sighed. This was _not _one of those times when I appreciated Mallory's melodrama.

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True to her word, Kristy stayed for dinner on Tuesday night. After dinner, we went up to my room. Kristy hadn't seen it since I redecorated in my new favorite colors, dark yellow and orange and red during eighth grade. Those colors reminded me of autumn, which was my favorite time of year because when the leaves fall from the trees, they look like they're dancing. I had even choreographed my own ballet piece about that for the middle school talent show.

"I like your room," Kristy said as she sat down in my desk chair and looked around. "But it's really weird to be here and not see horse posters up on your walls."

I laughed and nodded. I knew what she meant. Growing up was strange.

"So, are the kids in your class getting excited for the exhibition? It's less than two weeks away."

"Oh yeah. They can't wait. We had to skip the lyrical unit to have time to teach the choreography, but I think that's ok. What about your kids?"

"They're really into it. They even decided to have a party this weekend to decorate team shirts instead of just wearing different colors."

I sighed and lay back on the bed. "Sometimes I wish I could play soccer or something. It's too bad I have to worry so much about hurting my feet and ankles. It might be nice to try a team sport. Just for fun, I mean."

"Well, if you want, I could teach you some softball stuff. You know, hitting and catching. The basics. After all, when the soccer season is over, I'll need to start training for softball again. And I think we make a pretty good training team."

That made me laugh. "The thought of me playing softball is _almost _as funny as the thought of you in a tutu and tights."

And then suddenly, I didn't feel like laughing anymore. The part about the tutu was a joke, but actually, I thought Kristy would probably look really good in tights and a leotard. She had only gotten a few inches taller since eighth grade, but she had a good figure, athletic and lean but not too muscular. If she brushed her hair once in awhile, she would probably even be really pretty.

But then again, I kind of liked her hair messy. It suited her.

"Ha ha ha," she replied dryly, but I could tell she wasn't mad. "Well, the offer stands. If you're ever interested, I'd be happy to teach you whatever you want."

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That night after Kristy left, I couldn't fall asleep. I lay in my bed with my hands behind my head and stared up into the darkness for a long time. I sighed and let my mind wander.

Hanging out with Kristy lately had been a lot of fun. Still, every time I saw her, I felt a little strange. And I had been completely avoiding thinking about why. That had become my modus operandi lately—I tended to ignore stuff until I couldn't, then mull over it for a long time, and then suddenly, everything would become clear.

I realized that night that I had reached the end of the ignoring it stage.

So what was it about Kristy that made me so nervous? There was the obvious, that she was older and very confident and that I still sometimes saw her as the bossy thirteen-year-old who I was a little in awe of. But in truth, as I had gotten to know her better lately, I didn't really see her that way anymore. Now I saw that she was smart, funny, easy-going (unless you pissed her off), and committed to doing a good job at everything she did. She was definitely still confident and a little mouthy, but she didn't intimidate me anymore.

But there was still the problem of how my brain seemed to turn off whenever she gave me a big smile or touched my shoulder. Especially then. But if her touching me was such an issue, how come I kept finding myself touching her back? Why did I hug her goodbye the other day? Why did I suggest that we do that hamstring stretch again today?

And if she made me so nervous, why did I look forward to Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Friday, which were the days we saw each other, and kind of rush through Mondays and Wednesdays, when I went to ballet class in Stamford instead?

And why did I constantly think about how good her legs were looking these days? And her lips…

Oh, boy. It was time to let this one go for the night. I rolled over and went over the choreography for the exhibition in my head. That was much safer.

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"Jessi," my sister called up the stairs, "telephone for you!"

I picked up the extension in the hallway and said hello.

"Jessi? Hi, this is Kristy's mother."

"Oh," I said in surprise. "Hello, Mrs. Brewer."

"I'm calling to invite you to Kristy's surprise birthday party. Her birthday is the 20th—"

"The day of the exhibition?" I interrupted.

"Yes. And we thought afterward, around six, we'd tell her we were taking her out to dinner with just the family, but we've actually reserved the back room at Gino's and are going to surprise her with a party. Can you make it?"

"Sure!" I answered enthusiastically. "I bet she'll love that."

"We think so, too. So I'll see you a week from today at the exhibition, and then at Gino's."

"Sounds good, Mrs. Brewer. I'll see you then."

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The next week flew by, and before I knew it, it was the day before the exhibition. Kristy and I did our normal workout in the afternoon and then decided to go out to for pizza, since both our parents were gone for the night and neither one of us felt like cooking. Since we had gotten all sweaty, Kristy went home to shower and change. I stayed in the basement and sat down on the floor to think for a little while. I was still spending a lot of time alternating between trying to figure out what was going on with me and Kristy and trying _not _to figure out what was going on, but I'd made it through the week without losing a lot of sleep, so I was in a great mood.

Even so, I was still a little wound up after our workout, so I decided to spend a little time on my dancing. I put on my lyrical dance shoes, turned on some really intense instrumental music, and closed my eyes. After a minute, I began improvising to the music.

I can't quite explain in words what it's like to dance, but I'll try. I feel like I'm actually _inside _the music, like my body has been taken over by what the composer is trying to communicate. I feel strong and tight, but also long and kind of empty, like my body is one big silk scarf, and moving one part causes the rest of me to follow behind organically.

This particular music was very powerful. It was a piece called Blur, and that's sort of what it felt like as I moved, like thoughts and movements blurred together both in motion and in content. It was a piece that made me want to do a lot of leaps and whip my body around in ways that I didn't normally get to. I felt very alive dancing that piece, and all the worry about what was going on with Kristy drained out of me. It made me realize how much I relied on dancing to deal with all the emotions that can be too much, and how little dancing I had been doing outside of my ballet class and the class I was teaching. Too little dancing on my own.

Unfortunately, it was only a six minute song, and it ended much too quickly for me. When I opened my eyes, though, I was surprised to see Kristy sitting on the stairs watching me. Her eyes were big and dark, but gentle, and she had a little smile on her face that shook me up a little.

"Kristy! What are you doing here?"

"Becca let me in. She told me I could come down here. I didn't want to interrupt, so I was just watching…" she said softly as she stood up and walked toward me. "You're really good, Jessi."

And there it was. My moment of clarity. As Kristy stood in front of me, quiet and still for once, I realized how much I wanted to kiss her. And if Becca hadn't chosen that exact moment to yell down to us, I probably would have.

"Jessi, Kristy! I'm going over to Charlotte's house. See you later!"

Kristy looked away. I cleared my throat. "Um, why don't you hang out in the living room? I'll go take a really quick shower and then we can leave for dinner."

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My shower took a little longer than expected. After all, I had a lot to process. I thought quickly, running through the situation in a weird stream-of-consciousness as the water poured down over my face.

I wanted to kiss Kristy. I wanted to kiss her the way I had always thought I was _supposed to _want to kiss the boys who I went to school dances with. I had never actually really wanted to kiss those boys, and I had been wondering for awhile what that meant. Instead of trying to figure it out, I had spent more time than ever on my dancing and stuck to socializing with Mallory through email and phone calls and not spending a lot of time with other people. Until this summer, that is. This summer, Kristy had been taking up a lot of my time. Kristy who I wanted to kiss.

By the time I got out of the shower, I felt ok about things. I actually felt better having figured out what was going on than I expected. All this time, I had been avoiding thinking about what was going on, but now that it was clear, I didn't want to waste any more time acting like it was nothing.

I wanted to kiss Kristy Thomas.

I was in a bit of a haze all through dinner, but I felt energized at the same time. Kristy and I talked about the kids we were working with and how much we were going to miss them. I talked about Mallory and she talked about her friends, including a couple of the BSC members who she still saw now and then. She told me which colleges she was planning to apply to and I told her about upcoming auditions for the ballet that my dance school was putting on. At the end of the night, I still didn't really know what to do about this revelation, but I felt good knowing that I could still spend time with Kristy and enjoy myself. And for a little while, that was going to have to do.

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The next day was bright and sunny, which was a relief because most of the exhibition was going to be outside. After my early morning _barre _practice, I showered and put on a red tank top and black dance pants. Jill and I had decided we should dress the same way our students were dressing for the performance, even though we weren't going to be dancing. As soon as breakfast was over, I kissed my parents goodbye and headed to the high school. All the instructors and coaches were supposed to get there by nine to help set up so that when the kids and parents arrived at ten, we were ready to go.

The day passed pretty quickly. Jill and I took the kids through the routine one more time in the classroom we had been using and reminded them to meet by the gym at 2:30 in order to be ready for the three o'clock performance.

At one, I headed over to the soccer field to see Kristy's group. I got there just as things were starting and took a seat on the bleachers a few rows away from Kristy's family, who were there partly to support Kristy and partly because Kristy's brother, David Michael, was in the baseball exhibition. The kids did a quick display of some of the skills they had been learning as Kristy explained to the parents what each skill was as the kids did it, and when they were done, they started a game that was going to last half the length of a normal soccer game.

I have to admit, the game was pretty entertaining. Soccer looked like a lot of fun. At one point, I caught Kristy's eye and waved. She waved back, and this time, when my stomach got all fluttery, I smiled. Now that it made sense, it was kind of a nice feeling.

I didn't stick around very long after the game ended. A lot of parents seemed to want to talk to Kristy, and I needed to go set up the CD player and talk to Jill before my students' dance performance. I rushed through lunch and said a quick hello to my family, who had also come to watch, and then met my students outside the gym, where they were going to perform. We did a focusing exercise that I sometimes used before I performed, and then it began.

Jill and I introduced the group and talked about the different kinds of dance we had been doing all summer before hitting play on the music and stepping aside. I watched the kids dance, but I have to admit that I also snuck a few glances at Kristy, who was seated in the crowd of families there to watch their kids.

This time, after the performance, the parents were all trying to talk to Jill and _me_, and I saw Kristy disappear out the door after a few minutes. It was nice to hear from the parents how much fun their kids had had this summer, and there were even a couple kids who wanted my advice on where they could take dance lessons during the school year. My own parents told me repeatedly how impressed they were. Finally the crowd started to thin out and I turned to my family, who were waiting for me nearby.

"Ok, guys, I think I'm ready to leave. Thanks for waiting."

"You don't need to do any cleanup?" asked Mama.

"Nope. All we had was our CD player. I'm ready to go," I answered.

The plan was for me to go home and relax for a little while before changing into nice clothes and getting dropped off at Gino's around 5:30. In that time, I also needed to figure out what to give Kristy for her birthday. I had been trying to think of something all week, but everything seemed either too corny or too impersonal. And now I only had two hours to figure it out.

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The surprise party went off without a hitch. Kristy clearly had no idea what was going on when her parents ushered her into the back room of Gino's, which is sometimes used for private parties and sometimes used for regular seating. When everyone shouted, "Surprise!" she nearly jumped out of her skin. Luckily, Kristy's the kind of person who loves to be the center of attention.

For the last half hour, we had all been milling around the room, eating, talking, and laughing. Kristy had been working her way through the room saying hi to all her family and teammates and friends who were there. I was eating lasagna and talking to some friends of Kristy's from her soccer team when Kristy got to our table to say hi. She stuck around for a few minutes before announcing that she was going to get some food. I stood up with her.

"Kristy, can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked as I followed her toward the food.

"Sure," she answered easily. "What's up?"

"Um, actually…" I looked around for a place where we could talk privately. "How about out there?" I asked, pointing to a little hallway near the bathrooms.

"Oh… Sure."

Once we were standing where no one else could see us, I reached into my bag and pulled out the envelope I had brought her. "I just wanted to give you this. Happy birthday."

Kristy looked at me in surprise. Everyone else had put gifts and cards on a table near the door.

She opened the envelope and pulled out a card and a sheet of paper that read, "This entitles Kristy Thomas to train with Jessi Ramsey three days a week throughout both the soccer and softball seasons."

"I know it's not really a present," I told her quickly. "And if you don't want to, that's ok. But you said you thought we trained well together, and I just wanted you to know that you're welcome to work out in my basement any time, and—"

"It's great," she interrupted with a smile. "I've been kind of wondering if you were going to want to keep doing this now that you have more time to dance again," she admitted quietly as she reached out to hug me. "I'm really glad you do."

That hug did me in. I had been trying to decide when and how to tell Kristy how I felt about her, but she gave me one of those big, tight, full-body hugs—Kristy never does anything halfway—and my brain stopped working again. So when she pulled away, I heard myself say, "Um, Kristy? There's one more thing I wanted to tell you."

"Sure, what?" she asked softly.

And then before I knew what I was doing, I had leaned forward and pressed my lips lightly against Kristy's. It lasted long enough that it was pretty clear that I had definitely meant to do that. When I pulled away, my heart was beating quickly and I felt like I might pass out from nerves, but I didn't wish I could take it back.

Kristy just looked at me for a minute, and I realized I should say something.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have just done that without—"

The feel of Kristy's lips on mine again cut me off, but this time, Kristy put one hand behind my neck and another around my waist, and I found myself wrapping my arms around her as well.

It was even better than I had thought it was going to be. I should have known—kissing is a lot like dancing. It's a physical expression of something bigger than words. And it shouldn't have surprised me that someone who was both so intense and such a good athlete would be a perfect partner.

This time, when we stopped, Kristy smiled and whispered in my ear, "I guess I'm not the only one who has Great Ideas."

I laughed. The world can never have too many of those.


End file.
